


Cold

by lovi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dystopia, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovi/pseuds/lovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mathias Køhler is leading a revolution against the Danish government, and his friends and family are forced to watch from the limited coverage of a small news station. Something different happens, and drastic measures are taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I can't believe this is my first fanfiction that I've ever posted publicly. So, my name's Carolyn and I love the aph nordics so much that I literally wrote a fanfiction with only them in it. I hope you guys like it, I guess.
> 
> Oh, and by the way, there's a little bit of violence, but nothing too descriptive. I'll put a warning at the top of a chapter if there's anything that could be extremely discomforting.

14:00 pm, Saturday, December 20th, Jokkmokk, Sweden

 

“Quick, hurry up! He’s almost on!” The young blond called out, standing excitedly in front of the television with his eyes practically glued to the screen. A warm cup of cocoa was held in between the sleeves of his sweater that covered his hands. A tall man with glasses stepped into the room, leaning up against the wall.

“Berwald, they’re coming, right? They’re introducing him!” The smaller man asked the taller man, eyes still on the image displayed. Berwald lightly nodded, craning his neck to look at the television as two other men walked into the room, sitting down on the couch. 

“Tino, could ya move over a bit, I can’t see a thing,” The smaller man on the couch groaned, trying to see around the ecstatic person who just happened to be standing in the middle of the room.

“Sorry Emil, I’m just so excited—“ Tino was cut off by the television.

“And now we will be speaking with the so-called ‘Beast of the North’, Mathias Köhler. Mr Köhler, what are you doing here in Copenhagen, which is currently one of the most dangerous cities in the world?”

The camera panned over to the left, showing a tall man with messy blond hair and striking blue eyes. Although he seemed to be covered in blood and dirt, he still bore a large grin.

“That’s him, there he is!” Tino practically shrieked and pointed at the television, which earned a roll of the eyes from Emil.

“I know. We can see him, too.” He sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Berwald glanced over at the other man on the couch, Lukas, who was also staring intensely at the screen with his lips slightly parted. He turned his attention back to the television when Mathias began to speak.

“Well, I’m here for one reason; to stand up! I won’t sit back and watch as millions of people are repressed, I mean, something has to be done! And I’ve been through enough to know how to handle things when they get tough.” A small smile spread across Lukas’s face, a rare sight to be seen, and even Berwald was taken aback when he spotted it out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re supporting the cause. And how do you plan on stopping the people higher up in position?” Mathias chuckled, deep and hearty.

“I have my ways. I’ve been doing things like this for years; I’m practically unstoppable.” He grinned at the camera, shoving a thumbs-up towards it.  
“Tch, what a dork,” Lukas finally spoke up, causing Berwald to turn his head. The small blond appeared to be calm and composed, however, Berwald could see right through his disguise. His fingers were tapping nervously on his right leg as he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

Of course he was worried. It was risky, saying things like that on live television where nearly anyone could hear them. If those words were to fall into the hands of the wrong person, who knows what could happen. Imprisonment, torture, death. Most likely death. In the corrupt society that they were currently living in, the government had a little too much control. And especially for someone as high-ranking as Mathias – if the government were to get their hands on him, he would be dead meat.

“Our fate rests in your hands. And lastly, what would you say inspires you? What keeps you moving in these dark ages?” Mathias looked outward, somewhere beyond the camera and into the sky above. The sun shone on his eyes, illuminating them and showcasing their depth. A smaller, more modest smile grew on his face.

“I have people. I have the citizens, who need me to survive, to stay strong. I have family—“ He quickly glanced toward the camera lens, knowing that they were all watching. “—whom I love very much. And, I have hope. Hope that keeps me strong and alive, hope that burns deep within my soul. Hope that inspires me to take each and every step forward with a little more gusto than the last one. Without hope, I most definitely would not be alive today.” This caused the reporter to smile lightly and puff a small amount of air out from between her lips, sending a visible warmth through the white sky.

“Wow. How inspiring. Those words will forever be engraved in my heart, as well as the hearts of the people out there fighting day by day and night by night.” Mathias sighed in relief and wiped the sweat off his brow.

“Berwald, just when do you think he’ll be coming back home?” Tino questioned the tall man from the opposite side of the room.

“No clue,” Berwald shrugged, itching his side. The sweater he was wearing was probably the itchiest one he owned; for some reason, the wool was a lot scratchier on this one than his others. By the time he had focused his attention again, Tino was already conversing with Emil about the amount of fish he’d been able to catch in the winter.

All of them lived in different parts of the north—Emil lived off in Iceland in a small fishing village, catching fish nearly all year round, while Berwald and Tino lived in a small lakeside cottage in Finland. Mathias and Lukas resided in a three-story home in Norway, situated in the middle of a beautiful fjord. In the spring, flowers grew all throughout the meadow there, and the skies were nearly always blue. 

However, all five of them always met up in their shared mountain house for the holidays. It was a cozy little wooden cabin that was about twenty minutes away from a ski lodge, where they would ski in the winter and sometimes hike in the summer. Due to circumstances such as government oppression and violence towards citizens, Mathias was not able to make it for the holidays, but that didn’t stop the rest of them from coming. Tino suddenly shushed Emil.

“Shh! The commercials are over, the interview is wrapping up!” Tino watched eagerly as the reporter shook hands with Mathias. 

“Thank you so much for speaking with us today!”

“Ah, it’s no big deal. I’ll do anything to keep this country on its feet.”

“Is that so?”

Lukas suddenly gasped quietly, so quiet in fact, that only Berwald picked up on it. His fingers stopped tapping on his leg, instead reaching over to grasp at his other forearm, digging his nails into his skin. Berwald watched in confusion, not quite understanding what was going on. But then again, Lukas was sometimes quite difficult to understand. 

“W-well, yeah, of course! This country courses through my veins, it keeps me alive and living! It’s my home, after all.” Mathias visibly gulped, something suddenly clicking in his mind.

“Okay then. Any last words?” Mathias cocked his head slightly, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Hm? I’m sorry, I don’t think I—“ He was interrupted by a sudden gunshot, whizzing by his head and grazing the tip of his ear, skin immediately reddening.

It was as if there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room. In less than a second, Tino lurched forward, clutching onto his stomach. Berwald rushed over to him, trying to balance the wobbling man. Emil shot upward, throwing his hand over his mouth.

“…Brother? Mathias? Oh my god, oh my god, shit shit shit…” A long string of vulgar words escaped from his mouth as he moved his hands upward, gripping at the roots of his hair.

Lukas stayed put, eyes blankly staring ahead, the widest they had been in centuries. On the screen, Mathias glanced at the camera, a look of absolute fear on his face, and quickly ran away out of pure instinct. The cameraman groaned, while the reporter looked towards one of the other people behind the camera.  
“What are you, stupid?! Go after him! We can’t let him get away!” However, Mathias had already disappeared into the crowd of protestors and revolutionaries gathered in the streets. He was far gone, or at least too hidden to ever find.

“He’s gone. I can’t see a trace of him.” The cameraman shouted above all of the commotion. The camera turned to its side and was shut off, static returning on the television. Lukas’s mouth gaped open, closing and opening back up again. Tino continued to weep off to the side, Berwald attempting to comfort him, while Emil removed his hands from his hair and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, m’kay?” Berwald whispered gently to Tino, the latter nodding his head in agreement. He helped the smaller man up, bringing him towards the back of the house to what Lukas assumed was the bathroom.

Lukas stayed put, eyes staring into the screen, expression blank, listening to the calm static of the television set.

It wasn’t the injury that had set him off, for he had seen far worse. In fact, it was the psychological effect that drove him off the edge. He could’ve sworn that news program wasn’t affiliated with the government. And on top of all of that, the look in Mathias’s eyes right before he fled. It was so unusual to see him that scared. In fact, Lukas hadn’t seen him look that worried since their Viking days, and even then he always seemed like he knew what he knew what he was doing.

It scared him.

It chilled him to the bone. 

It was cold, so cold.


End file.
